Once again, I’ve gone on to another challenge, another sauntering look at what I can do to make myself a better writer.

Last week’s challenge was a little bit of let-down, to coin a phrase. I was hoping someone would comment on it, take part – anything. Instead…it went unnoticed. That was upsetting. I wanted people to be able to join in, to explore what can be done. To find new ways to teach themselves as writers. However, this journey isn’t just about others, it’s about me. That leads me on to the next part – this week’s challenge!

This week, the challenge is again from Wonderbook: The Illustrated Guide to Creating Imaginative Fiction. Jennifer Don chose this week’s challenge, which was to do with Worldbuilding – something which every author should work on – especially if you write any type of fantasy or science fiction. This is something so close to my heart that I cannot help but to enjoy it. I enjoy looking at ways to craft my own worlds, to make them unique, compelling and able to be related to. Characters in this setting are often formed by their world, which made this challenge a little more exciting. Coming from page 222 of the book, this week’s challenge was definitely a fun one. It didn’t require too much preplanning, thankfully!

Aeron Alfrey’s flying city (2009)

Take a close look at Aeron Alfrey’s flying city (2009). Several questions might occur to you. Is the setting fantastical but realistic – or is it surreal? What kind of cause-and-effect might exist here? What are the creatures lying dead on the ground? Is the city fleeing? Is it in the midst of being destroyed? Construct a reasonable rationale for the setting of this image that might lead to a story, even if it uses the logic of dream.

This was what I came out with – I enjoyed this challenge, especially when looking at the shapes the flames made – monsters, seeking something? An idea that came from a character inside there…something different, for me!

The world burned beneath us. Creatures of flame licked at the bottom of our home, the earth clods supporting it dropping down into the fire-drakes. My father stood at the doorway, his arms lifted as he sought to keep us from landing, from the fire eating up our home, and then – ourselves. We were lucky to be in this world of magic. If we were like a normal family, we would be down there now. If things were different, our bones would have blackened in the touch of the lashing flames. Instead, I sat on the bay window of my room, and read. Dante’s hell had come on Earth. I just had to hope we were strong enough to keep ourselves above the ground long enough for it to die down. I jumped a little as one building tottered on the edge…and fell, to be devoured by the ferocious inferno.

Why not join in, see what you get from the same prompt! Let your imagination run wild. I know mine did! See you next week for my next challenge!

White smoke whirls in the air, forming open mouths to voice my inner screams. Around me, the city crumbles as it’s ripped from the ground. Dirt and dust and ash. Flying, tearing, ending.
I crouch beside my mother and scream at her. “Why?! Why have you done this? We could’ve been safe — we could’ve lived!”
But she doesn’t respond. She did not survive the jump.
That reckless jump. I remember a grinding noise, so great it shook the earth and burrowed deep into my ones, rattling them in my body. I had screamed. Father and Mother were not home.
And then, a voice, projected itself into the air. I could not hear the words over the agonized screams and the terrible noise filtering through my body.
I rushed outside and nearly died. Debris was flying everywhere, leaping and bounding and impaling anyone who was not careful. Around me, people were scattering, bundles full of their precious items in their arms, or hands cradled tightly around their family. Dust clung to the air, thick, heavy, too hard to breathe.
“Please, calm down, everyone. It is an emergency. As your safety is our priority, we ask that you all remain calm and heed instructions. As of right now, we are moving the city to avoid the danger.”
He said it simply, firmly. Moving the city? I thought he was crazy. But the shaking ground and the growing thinness of the air was not a lie.
Then, Mother had shown up and she had screamed at me unintelligible words. Her hair was wild, whipped around by the wind, and her eyes were dark and unhinged; scratches marred her once beautiful face. She grabbed my hand. Pulled. Harder and harder until I had no choice but to follow her.
“Please make your way to the center of the city,” the man said.
But Mother pulled me away from the center. Further. Further.
“Mother!” I screamed and then we had jumped and the wind was rushing past me and I was one with the air and the dust and all —
The height of the jump should’ve killed me. But I am alive. Mother had used her own magic to save me. She is dead.
I glance around again. The smoke is billowing ever faster, covering everything. I can barely seen the shadowy outline of the city anymore, and soon — it is gone.
Mother is dead, and now, because of her, I fear I will soon be, too.